No Control
by Krall
Summary: A new mutant is revealed. His powers come to light in a chilling manner and causes his mind to fight itself. Can the institute help him? OC/Rogue
1. No Control

Disclaimer: I don't own anything in this FanFiction other than my OC Alan Davidson. I don't have enough money to be worth suing anyway.  
  
Author's Note: This is my first fic, be gentle.  The bold italics are for someone inside Alan's head.  It will be described later.  Please don't flame, contstructive criticism is welcome on the other hand.  
*******************  
_            Just great, I work 10 hours overtime and the prick doesn't even mark me down for it!  
_            

            I tossed the paycheck envelope into an open dumpster as I walked down the streets of downtown Chicago.  It was the third time in a row my boss hadn't recognized any overtime work I did and I was almost in the mind set to head back there and torch that damn burger joint.  If that had been the least of my problems that night, I probably still would have gone back the next day to get harassed by some overweight balding guy who got pickles after 'specifically asking for them to be removed'. 

  
            "Great, I just started my summer vacation," I said to noone in particular "Only good part about today is knowing next year will be my last.  I got a flat and ticket for a bad tail light. Some behemoth in a business suit bit my head off because he couldn't lift his lard filled arm to pick a couple pickles off his damn cheese burger. And, to top it all off, I won't be able to pay my car insurance without the overtime pay! Fan-fucking-tastic!"   
  
_I looked at my check again.  They couldn't even spell my damn name right! It's ALAN DAVIDSON! Not "ALIEN" DAVIDSON!  
  
_I grunted in frustration at the mere stupidity of such an error. There's no reason to complain about it since the store was already closed._    
  
Suddenly, I was grabbed by the back of my shirt and pulled into an alley. "The hell?" I said, almost on instinct.  
  
Soon my additude was cut short by a scruffy looking man holding a gun at my face. I'm pretty sure it wasn't loaded with B.B.s  
  
"Gimme your wallet!"_

   
Terrified for my life, I slowly reached into my back pocket. The entire time the armed man was slowly watching my arm reach for the cash, to make sure I didn't try to play the hero, I assumed. After getting my wallet out, I slowly out-stretch my hand to give up all my worldly cash.  
  
As he reached his other hand out to get my money, I noticed he was actually pretty thin.  He looked like he hadn't eaten in a few days.  That' s probably why he needed the cash. That or alcohol. He reeked of it.  
  
Great, I thought to myself, first those Friends of Humanity nut jobs hassling everyone who passes by them to 'make sure they're not a mutant.', asking for 'protection money.'  Now I've got a hobo with a gun asking for everything else. 

  
Just before he grabbed the wallet, something happened that would change my life forever, and cut his very short...  
  
A shiny black two foot spike replaced my hand and swiftly embedded itself into the mugger's chest.  We both looked into each other's face with disbelief and shock as the entire moment seemed to slow down. 

  
Beep Beep Beep BEEP BEEP  
  
I never thought my hourly watch alarm would note the exact time I killed a man.  11:00 pm  
  
BEEP BEEP BEEP  
  
June 23, 2003 at 11:00 PM, my life had begun it's downward spiral.

  
I didn't know what to do. 

            "I-I'm sorry. I don't know how- I'm-  Oh god, what have I done? What am I?" I pleaded with him, I pleaded with the world,  I pleaded with anyone who was within earshot as to what just transpired.  
  
I just slowly backed away from him and went to the back of the alley. I slumped down to the ground after backing against the wall and stared at the spike that was where my right hand used to be.   
  
"I'm 17...the class clown...how the hell could this happen? What did I do to deserve this? What did that man do to deserve this? He just wanted some cash..same as anyone..he didn't deserve to die..."  
  
**_Are you so sure about that?_**   
  
"Who's there!?" I called out in a panic.  
  
**_No one, just you...  
  
_**

The dumpster.  
  
The exit to the alley.  
  
The wounded man.  
  
My eyes darted everywhere, looking for a source to the voice.  
  
"WHO IS IT?!?" I screamed again, hoping for a more reasonable response.  
  
**_I told you, no one is talking to you but yourself. Well, that and maybe what created that nice little toy that you've got there.  
  
_**I stared down at the spike in horror**_. _ I assumed two things.  First, whatever I was hearing was right. There was no one in the alley or anyone within earshot for that matter. Secondly, whatever this voice was, it created the weapon and caused me to kill that man.  
  
But could it be?... Really?, I thought to myself, This doesn't happen for real... only in movies...or to mutants... I'm not a mut-**

**_Hahahahahaha.  
  
_**"But- what- how- Why!? Just WHY!?" I screamed.

****

**_Now it's time to have some fun...  
  
_**

**My body felt like it was on fire. My vision blurred. I blacked out...  
  
  
**

**************  
What do you think? Please review.   Keep in mind it's my first fic.  
  
Thanks to Post, RandiRogue, and Moltov for helping me straighten out stuff and giving me the final push to put this on ffn.net


	2. From bad to worse

Disclamer: I don't own anything except for my OC Alan, i'm STILL too poor to be worth suing.  
  
Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews so far! That doesn't mean I've had my fill. Please, review some more! It'll make you feel all warm and squishy!  
  
*****************  
  
Chapter 2: From bad to worse  
  
"What the hell happened?" I muttered as I opened my eyes  
  
I was on my back in a parking lot behind the local mall. It was only a few blocks from my house. I struggled to get up but it felt like I had just ran 3 miles while pushing a boulder. Still I decided to stay there for a bit to regain my strength.  
  
I groaned in pain and managed to bring one of my hands to my face.  
  
"What?..Is that..."  
  
I pulled my hand away from my face and saw a crimson stain that confirmed my suspicions.  
  
"Blood..but-"  
  
It all came flooding back...  
  
The mugger.  
  
The stabbing.  
  
The blade coming from my right hand.  
  
But wait..  
  
'I stabbed the guy with my right hand. Why is there blood on my left?' I wondered.  
  
I sat up with a jolt  
  
"My god...what happened?" was all I could get out as I saw what was before me.  
  
Cars had their doors torn off, some had been flipped, some had even been split in half. Light poles were either bent over or snapped off. The pavement had large gashes torn through it that resembled an ice rink after a hockey game.  
  
I could hear police sirens in the distance.  
  
At the center of it was another thing that I would never forget.  
  
A woman was curled into a ball, sobbing. She had her knees to her chin and blood running down her right arm.  
  
"Please don't hurt me. Please don't hurt me. Please let me live." She chanted to herself over and over.  
  
I gathered what strength I had and slowly crawled over to the woman.  
  
"What happened? What tried to hurt-"  
  
"GET AWAY!" she screamed in a way that can only be described as pure terror  
  
And it was directed squarely at me.  
  
I leaned back into a sitting position and stared at my blood stained hands.  
  
I didn't...I couldn't....Did I?  
  
I was so wrapped up in the situation I almost didn't hear a motorcycle drive it's way into the parking lot. It's rider was helmet-less. A tall man with short, black hair that was grey at the roots. A thick moustache and a scar across his left cheek adorned his face. He had the typical biker wear; black leather jacket and blue jeans. One thing stood out though...  
  
He was armed to the teeth.  
  
A pistol at each side and a bandolier of hand grenades going down his chest.  
  
That's just what I could see with the jacket closed, but it was enough to scare the hell out of me.  
  
He cocked his head toward the woman.  
  
"You know what caused this?" He asked in a gruff voice, almost annoyed.  
  
She quickly extended her left arm and pointed it straight at me.  
  
"HIM! He's a mutant! He did this!" she shrieked  
  
Tired or not, I started running out of the lot and into the nearest alleyway as fast as my strength would allow.  
  
After about 10 minutes of running on pure adrenaline and a few gun shots later. I felt I had lost him for at least a little bit. I wound up in another alley.  
  
My thoughts were drowned out by the sound of an exceptionally loud jet engine passing overhead at amazing speeds. I knew that O'Hare was nearby but I didn't think the planes were THAT far in their descent when passing this area.  
  
*vrRRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrr*  
  
I was then reminded of the NRA mascot on the motorcycle.  
  
"He doesn't look like a cop, so why is he after me?" I asked myself while running.  
  
"In here!" a southern voice called  
  
I turned my head to see a girl with white streaks in her hair and wearing a strange jump-suit with a green design on the chest.  
  
"Within the past hour and a half my life has gone to absolute HELL! I just found out I'm a mutant. A crazed biker with more weapons than I've ever seen before is chasing me because of that fact. How in the fuck do I know that you're not gonna put a bullet in my head the minute I get in there!?" I yelled at her.  
  
"Do ya see any guns on me?" She yelled back, obviously annoyed.  
  
"But...fine. Fine! Fuck it, like I've really got a better option," I reluctantly surrenderd and made my way into the alley.  
  
"Why the *pant* hell are you *pant* helping me?" I asked.  
  
"Because ah know what yer goin' through."Her response surprised me to say the least.  
  
"How can you know? How the hell can you know what's going on in my head?!"  
  
I tried to keep it vague. Let her fill in the blanks if she really knew.  
  
"Yer confused, wondering why this happened ta you. Out of all the people on Earth, 'Why me' right?" The previous response surprised me, but this one nearly knocked me over.  
  
"Y-yea" I stammered out. "But..h-"  
  
Before I could finish, she grabbed my arm with a gloved hand and pulled me down the alley toward a fire escape.  
  
"We'll talk later! Right now we gotta get outta here! Ah've got some friends who can help ya!"  
  
I followed her up the fire escape. I looked up and noticed two people. A tall lanky guy with brown hair and a strange visor. The other figure was hunched over in a crouching position with blue fur and a tail.  
  
I closed my eyes tightly for a second then reopened them.  
  
Yep, blue fur and a tail.  
  
*BANG*  
  
That biker found me again and was wasting NO time trying to take me down.  
  
*BANG BANG*  
  
"Move it!" The girl in green yelled down to me, only slightly phased by the sound of gunfire.  
  
"Sorry! I'm not used to being shot at!" I sharply replied.  
  
We were almost near the top when I felt a burning pain in my ankle.  
  
One of those bullets had hit it's target.  
  
I howled in pain and let loose a few obscenities.  
  
After I hobbled up the last couple of steps to the roof of the building, I slumped over into a heap and grabbed my wounded ankle.  
  
"Thanks for the help guys, but it looks like I'm out of commission. Get out of here before he gets you too."  
  
"Ah don't think so." the girl said, as she leaned over and draped one of my arms over her and helped me to my feet.  
  
"Rogue, get him to the X-jet!" The guy with goggles was obviously addressing the girl.  
  
"X-jet? What kind of group are you guys with anyway?" I asked her.  
  
"We're from a special school. One that helps people like you."  
  
"Trust me. I don't deserve to be helped. I deserve to be left behind for the 'Terminator' back there."  
  
"Don't say that. Just because yer a mutant doesn't mean yer life is over! The professor will help ya out." she replied, slightly annoyed.  
  
I grinned a little bit, but then felt guilty. If she knew what I really meant when I said that, she might have agreed with me and tossed my wounded body off the roof.  
  
Our conversation was soon cut short by shouting coming from behind us.  
  
We turned to see the blue guy with a tail and the "leader" diving behind an air conditioner that was protruding from the roof.  
  
*THOOOM*  
  
The area where they were standing lit up like the fourth of July and the explosion rocked the ground where Rogue and I were at.  
  
"CHRIST! That guy doesn't give a damn who he hurts!"  
  
"Well DUH! We gotta move faster, the jet's on the next rooftop!" she quickly replied.  
  
I looked ahead to see something that was about the size of a stadium with wings. All black with two gargantuan jet engines protruding from the back.  
  
"Woah...But what about your friends?"  
  
"They'll be fine! Kurt probably 'ported 'em out before the explosion went off."  
  
"Kurt...the guy with the glasses, right?"  
  
"No. Ah'll show you him later."  
  
We got to the edge of the roof we were at, must have been a 10 foot gap. She gently set me down, backed up a few feet, got a running start, and managed to clear the gap with no problem.  
  
After she landed I called out "Yea, that's just great for you, but I couldn't do that even if I hadn't gotten shot!"  
  
*BAMF*  
  
"The hell was-"  
  
"One vay trip on ze fuzzy express!"  
  
*BAMF*  
  
I soon found myself on the opposite roof surrounded by remnants of a cloud and the odor of overcooked hard boiled eggs.  
  
"W-w-what the HELL WAS THAT?!?"  
  
"Vat? You've never 'ported before?" A joking tone said from behind me  
  
I quickly turned around to get a better look at whoever had just gotten me from rooftop to rooftop in an instant.  
  
Blue fur with a tail.  
  
"Uh...Thanks." It was the most I could get out before I saw the guy with goggles approach at top speed.  
  
"Introductions later, lets get out of here! Kurt, can you get Alan into the X-jet?"  
  
"Ja!"  
  
As the blue guy, now known as Kurt, said that, he made a mocking salute gesture with his tail.  
  
"Wait, how the hell do you know my-"  
  
*BAMF*  
  
I choked on sulfur smoke for a few seconds and found myself in the jet. Rogue had already gotten in and was sitting in one of the chairs with a first aid kit in her hands. Kurt went to the cockpit and signaled to a very intimidating guy in the pilot's seat that they were ready to go and that the last guy would be in shortly.  
  
I collapsed in the nearest seat, sighing in a mixture of exaustion and relief.  
  
Rogue proceeded to bandage up my right ankle.  
  
"Don't worry, this shouldn't hurt," she said uneasily. It was probably her first time working with a gunshot wound.  
  
And of course, it hurt, ALOT.  
  
I winced and jerked my leg back slightly, then held it steady for her to continue bandaging it.  
  
"Sorry"  
  
"Don't worry, if I knew I was going to be shot at I would have asked him to aim higher."  
  
That seemed to ease the tension a little bit.  
  
The guy with the goggles quickly got inside and took his seat in the co- pilot's chair.  
  
As we took off I glanced around the jet a bit.  
  
"Nice aircraft you've got here, what model is-"  
  
Before I could finish my sentence I noticed an orange glow coming from outside the window I was seated near. There was a house fire.  
  
A house fire.  
  
An arson.  
  
My home.  
  
"No-no-no-no-NO!" My world shattered around me in a matter of hours  
  
My house, my parents, my life.  
  
I jerked my leg away, interrupting Rogue's work again. I just had to see if what I was watching was true.  
  
Was I wrong? Was I off by a street or two?  
  
No, I wasn't that lucky.  
  
The blue convertable parked in the driveway with a cracked back window. My mom's red Toyota parked by the curb with the smiley antenna ball. Two houses from the corner. Two blocks to the west of the mall.  
  
My house was on fire. My life was destroyed. I had a crazed biker chasing after me.  
  
I just sat in the chair, pulled my legs to my chest and let silent tears roll down my face. I was in shock.  
  
My life had just crumbled. I didn't know how, but I caused a path of destruction that I couldn't even remember. I didn't know why I deserved to live.  
  
I felt a slight warmth on my left shoulder. I looked over and saw that Rogue had seated herself next to me and put her arm around me to try and comfort me.  
  
"You said this Professor could help. Can he make me wake up from this nightmare?"  
  
She looked at me for a second. Letting the words sink in, I guess. Then she looked to the floor.  
  
The other passengers fell silent.  
  
As silent as a certain alley in downtown Chicago where a bleeding corpse lay. 


	3. Close Call

Disclaimer: I STILL don't own Marvel or anything they've made. Except for my copy of Ultimate X-men 21 which i bought from my local comic shop. That's mine. I've even got the receipt to prove it.  
***************  
  
Chapter 3  
  
Close Call  
  


I finally relaxed enough to sit normally in the seat and buckle myself in. I still couldn't believe what just happened, but I at least was able to speak now.  
  
"So, 'goggles' what do they call you?"  
  
The lanky guy seemed surprised by the nickname I just gave him, he turned his head from the jet controls in front of him and quickly replied "My name's Scott, the girl is Rogue, and the blue guy is Kurt."  
  
Kurt decided to interject "So.. vat can you do?"  
  
I looked at the ground. I wasn't even sure what I could do, or if I could even control it.  
  
"Well... From what I can gather, I can make my hands into blades. I also seem to have this latent ability to piss off heavily armed bikers."   
  
Rogue and Kurt both grinned at the joke.  
  
"Vhen did you find out zat you could make blades?"  
  
I silently panicked. I doubted they'd appreciate knowing they just saved a murderer, even if I didn't know what I did exactly.  
  
"Um, I was putting some cash in a parking meter and next thing you know..." I made a poking motion with my right hand, "There was a hole in the meter and dimes were everywhere."  
  
During my charade, Rogue looked at my hands and her eyes grew.  
  
"Jesus! What the sam-hell happened to your hands?"  
  
I suddenly remembered that my hands were covered in bloodstains.  


It was time for me to launch off my second lie of the ordeal.  
  
"Some Friends of Humanity members saw what I did and tried to beat the hell out of me. I put up a pretty good fight. I didn't notice the blood till now. As far as I know they're all still standing."  
  
I was off to a great start. These people had saved my life and I was already lying through my teeth.  
  
"Oh" Rogue replied in an understanding tone  
  
That's probably the first time I really got a good look at Rogue. She was, in my opinion, drop dead gorgeous. Chin length brown hair with white streaks in the front, pale skin, and the most beautiful pair of green eyes I'd ever seen.   
  
She was looking toward the front of the jet, out the main window.   
  
If she noticed me, she probably would have thought I was delusional with how long I was just staring at her.  
  
I quickly snapped out of my trance.  
  
"So, what about the other guy up there, the one in the orange spandex?"  
  
Kurt and Rogue both exchanged glances, then looked back at me. Their expression was as if I just lit my hair on fire.  
  
"Zat's Logan", Kurt finally said  
  
"And don't forget it, bub." The man called 'Logan' seemed to be a man of few words.

  
Thats when I started to feel a little dizzy.  
  
"Woah, did we just do a 180?"  
  
"No..." Rogue replied "At least ah don't think-- woah!"  
  
I glanced down at the bandage to see what she was reacting too. My blood had seeped all the way through and slowly dripped onto the cabin floor.  
  
My eyes went wide for a second and the dizzy feeling started to get worse.  
  
"Woah! Think this thing..could go....any....."  
  
My strength slowly dripped onto the floor. I could barely speak, then I finally lost consciousness for the second time.

  
  
  
I woke up in a strange room. White tiles above me and a steady beep coming to my left. I looked at myself and noticed I was in a bed. My ankle had a new bandage on it, much smaller but it was no longer bleeding.  
  
I slowly pulled myself into a seated position and looked at my surroundings. I had cords reaching to my chest attached to small stickers. I immediately recognized the device as a heart monitor. Watching all those hospital dramas was starting to pay off.

"Hello?" I called out to the empty room  
  
I soon heard a shuffling from the side of the room and in walked a large blue furry man slumped over almost like a gorilla.  


"Ah, our new guest has awaken. How do you feel?" the blue ape asked of me.  
  
"Um, fine I guess. Who are you? Kurt's dad?"  
  
The blue man chuckled at the comment.  
  
"No, but I see how you could easily be confused. My name is Hank McCoy. Most people call me Hank or Beast."  
  
"Oh, I think I'll just call you Hank. Being called 'Beast' must not help your self esteem much." I replied.  
  
"I've become accustomed to both, but thank you for your consideration."  
  
"So.. What happened? The last thing I remember is barely being able to speak and my bandage turning bright red."  
  
"Well," Hank sighed and began to fill me in, "You passed out and gave everyone quite a scare, luckily you were only two minutes from the institute. I was informed over the radio to be prepared for an emergency. As soon as you landed, Kurt 'ported you to the operating room where I removed the bullet and stitched the wound shut. We moved you in here after the bleeding stopped and the blood transfusion we gave you during the procedure finished up. You've been out for a good hour."  
  
"I hope I didn't freak out Rogue too much, she looked like she was going to pass out before I did when she saw the bandage." I replied  
  
"Oh, she was a little taken back but she's just fine. Seeing that much blood would give anyone a scare."  
  
I thought back a bit on what Hank had told me.  
  
"Wait, institute? I'm in a psycho ward?"  
  
"No no no" Hank was quick to state, "This is Xavier's Institute for Gifted Children."  
  
"Xavier? Is that the professor that Rogue was telling me about?"  
  
"Yes, the very same." A voice said from behind Mr. McCoy.  
  
A bald man with a green sweater, black shirt,and brown pants in a wheelchair steered himself from behind the large blue man and into my field of view.  
  
"I am Professor Charles Xavier, I run this school. I teach the students how to control their 'gifts' away from the persecution of those who may fear their abilities."  
  
Taken back by the formal introduction it took me a second or two to reply.  
  
"So basically a mutant school?"  
  
"Yes, Alan, a mutant school."  
  
"Wait..how do you know my name? And how did you know where I was when you guys came to pick me up for that matter?"  
  
A flood of questions rushed into my mind.  
  
"I can solve both of your questions with one answer." the Professor replied, "I am a mutant myself, a telepath, we have a machine named 'Cerebro', It can amplify my powers to detect every mutant signature around the world, and..." he continued "It is specifically designed to warn us of new mutant signatures such as yourself. It gives us all the information about the person that would be in federal files. Along with your external appearance."  
  
"A t-telepath? You can read my mind?"  
  
I broke into a cold sweat.  
  
"Yes" He replied "But I morally refuse to enter a person's mind without their express permission, and I have taught my other telepathic student that as well."  
  
"Other?"  
  
"Yes, you'll meet her as well as the other students once Hank here gives you a clean bill of health. Now I'd like to ask a few questions of you."  
  
"Depends on the questions..."  
  
He noticed my discomfort at the situation and motioned for Mr. McCoy to leave the room. 

After he did the professor returned his focus on me.  
  
"What was happening at the time your powers manifested? Shortly after Cerebro detected it, the power spiked and stayed there for 20 minutes. Then it sharply dropped back to it's original levels."  
  
I couldn't lie to a telepath, of course the truth could have given me jail time. I squeezed my way into that little nook in between the two.  
  
"Listen," I started reluctantly, "I honestly don't know what happened during that 'power spike', but I'd rather not talk about how my powers came up. Something happened that I'm not too proud of."  
  
The professor looked like he was in deep thought for a moment. Then turned his head toward me.  
  
"I understand. But, I want you to know that whenever you feel like you can speak about it, to come to me. It was wrong of me to ask you about this so soon after such an ordeal. I'll have someone show you to your room," The professor's answer surprised me, but at this point I wasn't in any mood to look a gift horse in the mouth.  
  
"But, wait, you said I couldn't leave until Hank gave the ok," I replied, slightly confused.  
  
"He did."  
  
"But-"  
  
~Remember?~ a voice echoed in my mind.  
  
I quickly looked from side to side, then looked at the professor.  
  
"Oh..right," I said, completely forgetting that he had told me he was a telepath.  
  
A blond haired boy walked into my infirmary room wearing a uniform similar to Rogue's except it was entirely black with yellow gloves and boots.  
  
"You called?" he said to Xavier.  
  
Xavier nodded then motioned to me.  
  
"Yes, Bobby. This is Alan Davidson, the mutant that was rescued earlier today. Would you care to escort him to the extra room we have set up for him?"  
  
"Not a problem," Bobby replied. "Sorry about how long it took, I just got out of a danger room session. Trying to talk Logan out of anything is like arguing with a brick wall."  
  
I gave a slight chuckle while the Professor just smiled. Looked like I had competition if I wanted to claim the jokester crown here too.  
  
I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and was relieved to see that they didn't need to remove my jeans to stitch up the wound, just my socks and shoes. I noticed the bandage again and realized something. It was going to be a BITCH to walk.  
  
"Do I get some crutches or something till this heals a bit more?" I inquired.  
  
"Oh, right," I heard Hank say from the other room.  
  
A minute or two later, Dr. McCoy emerged from the adjacent room with a pair of crutches.  
  
"Here, walk with these for 5 days then it should be healed enough to not need them anymore," he stated in a very professional tone.  
  
I took the crutches from him and got myself comfortable with walking with them by taking a few laps around the infirmary bed.  
  
"Well, looks like he's got his sea legs back. Come on, I'll take you to your room." Bobby said while he smirked at his joke.  
  
He slowly lead me out of the infirmary area to an elevator. We walked in and he pressed the button for the ground level.  
  
As I stepped off to follow him the first thing I noticed was the immaculate living room. Large paintings adorned the walls and there was a large amount of elegantly made furniture.  
  
"Holy moley," I softly said as I followed the jokester to the large staircase.  
  
"Yep, impressive, ain't it?" he said.  
  
"To say the least," I replied.

I turned to him and decided to ask a question that I would probably be asked about a billion times before the week was over.  
  
"So, what's your power?"  
  
"Oh," he said in a bored tone.  
  
He pointed his hand toward a vase and shot a white stream of pure ice which froze the decorative object solid.  
  
"A little of this, a little of that," he added coyly.  
  
Great, I thought to myself, he's cocky too.  
  
I soon found out that trying to get up the stairs on crutches is a pain in the ass to say the least. When we reached the top he pointed to the hallway on the far left and continued the search for my room.  
  
"So, who picked you up?" Bobby questioned.  
  
"Um, Rogue, Scott, Kurt, and..." The last name slipped my mind for a moment.  
  
"Quiet guy, personality of a belt sander." I said.  
  
My tour guide gave a chuckle.  
  
"Oh, Logan, right?"  
  
"Bingo," I replied. "By the way, how is Rogue? She get freaked out by the blood?"  
  
"Hmm? Oh, she's fine, the queen of the goths probably got thirsty at the sight of it," he chuckled at his own idiotic joke.  
  
"...She IS your teammate, right?" I was reaching for a reason for him to go below the belt like that.  
  
"Yea," he replied. "She can be a bitch sometimes."  
  
"Well, maybe it's because some of her teammates treat her like you do." I quickly said back.  
  
By this time we had stopped outside of a door. I assumed it was my room.  
  
"Why are you so quick to defend her?" He said in an almost angry tone.  
  
"Well, why are you so quick to attack her?" I retorted, sounding equally pissed.  
  
"Jesus, sounds like you've got a crush on her or something," he caught me off guard with that one.  
  
"Um, no its.. um.it..er...I'm just...um.." 

  
His eyes widened at my response.  
  
"HOLY--!" he shouted "The ice queen's got an admirer!"  
  
If I didn't need the crutches to keep me from falling on my ass, they would have been used to beat him to death at that moment.  
  
"SHH!" I quickly tried to shut him up.  
  
"This my room?" I said as I motioned to the door we were standing next to.  
  
He nodded with a smart-ass grin on his face.  
  
"Ok, now listen 'Snowflake'," That wiped that grin off his face faster than anything.  
  
"It's not that, I'm just thankful that she and the others saved me," I snapped back.  
  
I rested my weight on a single crutch and opened the door with my free hand.  
  
I turned my head at him after I entered my room.  
  
"Got it, Bob-o?"  
  
"Fine," He angrily replied  
  
"Good," I snapped back as I closed the door with one of my crutches.  
  
***********  
  
Thanks go out to all who have reviewed so far and to those who have read my story and haven't even reviewed. I urge you to review as well.  
  
Thank you for your support, I will be adding more, here's to hoping I can keep this going... I refuse to leave you guys on a cliff hanger and stop writing.   



	4. Thinking of Nightmares

Disclaimer: I still don't own anything of X-men Evo or Marvel and I don't claim to for fear that Stan Lee will show up at my front door with a shotgun.  
  
All I own is my OC, Alan Davidson.  
  
Author's Notes: I'm very sorry about how long this took to write. I was in a bit of a rut and RL problems decided to make themselves known.  
  
Chapter 4  
  
Thinking of Nightmares  
  
************************  
  
I looked around the large room I was given for what was probably the hundredth time.  
  
Like I could sleep after what happened. In a matter of hours the rug was pulled out from under my life. I had killed a man, I was hearing voices, I woke up to what looked like a war zone, and that was just the tip of the iceberg! I was even hunted down by some nut-job on a motorcycle that had enough weaponry to take on God.  
  
Sure, I had a glimmer of salvation when Rogue and the others picked me up. But, the fire. That fire. They burned the house because of me.  
  
They killed my parents because of me.  
  
I didn't notice I was crying until the tears fell from my face and impacted on the carpet. I was sitting on my bed, leaning over the side, and just staring at the floor.  
  
"Dammit. Why? Why did this happen?" I muttered to the room.  
  
I glanced down at myself to see what were, right now, my only possessions. A black short sleeved T-shirt, a pair of jeans, my digital watch, and a year old pair of Nikes that looked like they were going to fall apart.  
  
I pushed myself off the bed and stood upright. I shifted my weight over to my good leg then hopped over to where I had set my crutches and grabbed them.  
  
I decided to take my thoughts outside. I maneuvered myself over to the window that led to the balcony and opened it up. I hobbled myself outside and took in the view. Much more favorable than the concrete forest my first home had been, but it still wasn't truly my home.  
  
Trees outlined the perimeter of the Institute; the side of the mansion I was in had the best view. It overlooked the ocean and there was a rather large waterfall pouring down into it from the edge of a cliff.  
  
"Great," I said to the view before me. "Just great. Tomorrow I'm going to head downstairs and be bombarded by a slew of teenagers asking 'What can you do?'" There was only one answer. "I'm screwed."  
  
Not all of them are going to buy that load of bull I told Kurt and the others on the jet.  
  
"At least I won't have to explain the blood to them," I said in a quiet tone. "I've still got to figure out a more believable story than that parking meter bullshit.".  
  
"Now why in the hell is that bullshit?" I heard a familiar southern voice say from behind me.  
  
"You were listening in!?" I spun around as fast as my crutches would allow.  
  
"You lied?" Rogue retorted.  
  
She was standing there staring me down from the doorway. Wearing a set of green pajamas. Only this time she wasn't wearing any makeup. She looked almost like a whole different person.  
  
"You snuck into my room!"  
  
"You still lied!" Note to self: lock the doors if you want privacy. No one knocks here.  
  
"I-I've...There's good reason for that." Yeah, so I was panicking.  
  
"Oh there better be a damn good reason," she sounded betrayed, "Or you'll be needin' more than just those crutches!"  
  
Time to squeeze into that nook between the truth and a lie again.  
  
"I'll tell you what I told the professor. I did something I'm not proud of at all. As a matter of fact, everything would probably be better off if I just wasn't a mutant, and I'm not talking about just myself," I felt a bit more relaxed as I said that. She, however, seemed annoyed when she looked at me again.  
  
"All right," she said, "but don't go telling any more lies to the other students."She still sounded irritated but not as angry as before. "We all have our little secrets."  
  
"Thanks for understanding," I replied with relief, "One question though."  
  
Her expression asked, 'what's that?'  
  
"How long has Frosty been a complete idiot?"  
  
"Frost--Oh! Bobby!" She chuckled, catching the joke. "What did he say this time?"  
  
"Well," I started in. "He called you Queen of the Goths and Ice Queen. Not to mention his holier-than-thou mentality."  
  
I looked over to her and noticed she was staring at the floor, she appeared to be thinking.  
  
I decided to cut the silence. "Um, are you alright?"  
  
"Oh," she seemed startled. "Just thinking about what all has been going on. Ah want to know, how do ya seem to keep a smile on after all this?"  
  
I simply grinned.  
  
"I've been doing that since I was young," I confessed. "I keep a happy face so the people I cared about wouldn't worry about me. 'Don't worry, I'm fine.' and just slap a joke on then all is well."  
  
I moved myself over to my bed and sat down as I said that.  
  
"I don't think it's going to cut it anymore." I added.  
  
"Well," Rogue finally spoke up. "No matter what, we'll help ya. That's what the prof made this school for."  
  
"That's what people keep telling me." Then a question creeped up in my head that I was surprised I hadn't asked before. "By the way, what are you doing up so late?"  
  
"Just a bad dream, that's all," she replied hesitantly then quickly headed for the door.  
  
"Rogue, wait," I called to her.  
  
She turned her head and looked at me over her shoulder.  
  
"Well, since neither of us can sleep, want to just talk for a while?"  
  
"...Sure."  
  
*********************  
  
Author's Notes: I'm sorry about how short the chapter was. I was deciding to take it a different route before but it would conflict with my current writing style. Due to that I decided against it. Please review and tell me what you think.  
  
Flames are unwelcome but Constructive Cricism is fine by me. 


	5. Questions, Lies, and News Broadcasts

Disclaimer: Evo ain't mine! So call off the lawyers, Marvel!  


A/N - I apologize for how long this took. I didn't want to force the content, I also wanted to make sure I was accurate with spelling/grammar.  
(Thank you beta readers!)

Chapter 5

Questions, Lies, and News Broadcasts

*******************************

  
The next day I was rudely awakened by a rather loud knock at the door.

"Hey, newbie. Breakfast is ready."  
  
I opened one eye and looked toward the door. The voice sounded familiar but I couldn't pinpoint it. I then looked at the alarm clock that was sitting on the night table.

  
7:00 AM  
  
These people were expecting me to wake up before 10?  
  
"Three more hours!" At least that's what I meant to say. My face was still stuffed in the pillow so I probably sounded like the teacher from the Charlie Brown cartoons. The human alarm clock must have taken it as 'Come on in and scare the crap out of me!'  
  
He opened the door rather quickly and repeated his statement in a slightly louder tone...

Who am I kidding? He threw open the door and yelled "Get up!" loud enough to wake the dead.  
  
"Jesus! I'm up I'm up!" I said groggily.  
  
I whipped my legs over the edge of my bed and decided to give my wounded ankle a little test push to see if the pain was still there. Yep, still there and still excruciating.  
  
After I realized that walking without the crutches wasn't an option yet, I grabbed them from the wall near the bed I had leaned them on after Rogue and I finished talking the previous night.  
  
She had told me that she could absorb other people's powers and gave me a brief list of the other students and their powers along with little quirks and other descriptors so that I could spot them easily. The strange part was that she went into great length at describing her classmates' powers but was rather conservative when she got to her own. She also told me that she couldn't control her power. Maybe the reason she didn't talk about her powers so much was because of that, because it bummed her that she had to be careful all the time.

  
I simply shook the worry out of my head along with the cobwebs of waking up and gathered the clothing I had worn the previous night. No one would fault me for not wearing something different since I didn't really have anything else to put on.  
  
I hobbled over to the door and saw that my wake up call was delivered by the same shining example of kindness that was piloting the jet the night I was brought here. I just looked up at the person the others told me was named Logan and probably made a big mistake in my half-awake/all annoyed state.  
  
"Ooga booga," I said as I hobbled past him.  
  
"What did you say, newbie?"  
  
I then heard a very odd sound, like metal sliding against metal. It was very quick but I knew there was something metallic involved.  
  
"I said, Oo-"  
  
I found out what that noise was! It was the sound of the scruffy guy's claws. Three on each hand were coming out of his fists. I dug myself my own grave... now to get out of it.

  
"-oK! I'll just be heading down for breakfast! Yes sir!"  
  
As I headed down the hallway toward the staircase I could have sworn that I heard Logan chuckle. I reached the stairs and had minor difficulty going down them till I reached halfway down. A blur of pink ran through my chest and down the rest of the stepss like it was a normal occurrence. After realizing I wasn't dead I chalked it up to another thing I'd have to ask about when I had a chance to talk with a few more people.  
  
The blur of pink had gone into a doorway to the side of the main hall. The bustling sound of silverware striking plates and talking teenagers led me to assume that the dining room was through that door. I didn't head in immediately, I simply stopped at the bottom of the stairs and sat on the last step. I didn't know what this curse of mine had just gotten me into. The last time I was this nervous was when I was working my first day at that damned burger joint. The manager had been barking out the rules and what the code of conduct was in the establishment. I threw out a few jokes to relieve the tension, as usual.  
  
The manager didn't find them funny and decided to come down on me like the hammer of God.  
  
Once I thought about it. That Logan guy acts a lot like my old boss. Perpetually pissed off at everyone, expecting all people to bow down at his demands, and looks like a biker. 

...Great! Now I wouldn't be able to see Logan again without picturing him in a Burger Barn work shirt and a headset. It was hard enough for me to try and take him seriously before, now I didn't think I could keep a straight face around him.  
  
After a few seconds of chuckling over the mental picture, I pulled myself to my feet with my crutches. I hobbled over to where the blur of pink went and entered the dining room.   
  
The roar of conversation dimmed to a murmur and dozens of faces turned in my direction as I entered the room. The teens at the table came from all walks of life and every single race and background you could picture. I noticed the professor at the head of the table with a smile on his face. I assumed he already told the other kids about me so they wouldn't be surprised at a new face disturbing their breakfast.  
  
Professor Xavier spoke first. "Alan, good morning. I'm pleased that you could join us. Logan told me that you were a heavy sleeper."  
  
Behind the professor sat the burly alarm clock that had pleasantly woken me earlier. He was seated in a chair that was positioned away from the main breakfast table and closer to the counter while he read the newspaper with a mug of coffee in his right hand. He shot me a glare as his name was mentioned before looking back down at his reading material.  
  
"If you don't mind, Alan." Xavier continued. "I would like to speak with you in my office after breakfast to answer any questions you might have and introduce you to the faculty."  
  
"Actually Professor, I'm not that hungry. I do have one question I'd like to ask now though," my eyes scanned over the other teenagers at the table before I continued. "Who the heck ran through me on the stairs?"  
  
A few of the teens were holding in chuckles, some were flat out laughing. Near the end of the table, one sole girl was trying to escape unnoticed. I looked toward the blur of pink who was now anything but a blur.  
  
"Ok, did you do anything to me when you did that?" I asked quite bluntly.  
  
"No! No, I didn't. It's harmless!"  
  
"Are you sure? Then why does my watch say it's the 35th of Septober 2240?"  
  
"Well, you weren't hurt!"  
  
I just shrugged, being thankful that she was right and realizing that a digital watch I found in a parking lot isn't too much to get angry over. It wasn't until now that I noticed something in my front pocket. I reached in and pulled out a house key I'd never seen before.  
  
"That's where it went!" the 'blur of pink' chimed. She quickly grabbed the key out of my hand as I just wondered if this was the strangest this school was going to get. So far I had met a man with knives protruding from his hands, a blue German who could teleport, a guy with goggles who could fire eye beams from what Rogue told me. Finally we come to Rogue, almost a vampire in a way. She can't touch without some barrier in the way. It almost makes my curse pale in comparison...  
  
"Alan?" The blur of pink sounded annoyed for some reason.  
  
"Um, yes?"  
  
"I was trying to tell you, my name is Kitty. You, like, spaced out there for a bit."  
  
"Sorry Kitty, I was thinking about something." 

The attention of the table had been drawn towards me, they all had curious looks except for the Professor and a red headed girl. They looked as if they knew an inside joke that they weren't sharing.  
  
"Alan, would you please follow me to my office? I'd like to see how you are coping with your arrival." Referring to the meeting Xavier had mentioned earlier.  
  
I simply nodded and followed the Professor into his study. Once inside I saw what I believed to be the faculty of the school. A tall African American woman with long white hair, Hank the blue gorilla doctor, and Logan entered after the professor and me. A sense of dread washed over me as I realized that by his looks I basically got on the gym teacher's bad side. The professor then maneuvered himself behind a large oak desk.

  
"You've already met Hank McCoy and Logan. This is Ororo Monroe, she is another one of our teachers at the Institute."  
  
The entire situation seemed very strange and very understaffed.  
  
"That's it? Just the four of you are in charge of a school of mutants?"  
  
"Our student base is not large enough to require any more teachers," Ororo explained. "There aren't that many mutants who are willing to come forward to teach at the school in the first place."  
  
I thought for a moment and realized she did make sense. From what I saw of the institute, it didn't seem large enough to hold even a hundred students. Unless the basement had a whole lot of bunks I wasn't aware of.  
  
"I guess you've got a point." I then turned my attention to the professor. "One question I'd like to ask is who was that match-stick girl at the end of the table?"  
  
"Match-stick?" Logan questioned.  
  
"Yea," I replied, obviously Captain Personality didn't catch my meaning. "Red hair, looks like a stick with arms. The girl who had that smirk on her face."  
  
Ms. Monroe covered her mouth but the corners of her eyes showed she was trying to hold in a chuckle while Logan still looked like he was left out of the loop.  
  
"That was Jean Grey," Hank,letting him in on the joke, said. "She is also a telepath like Professor Xavier."  
  
"Oh." It still didn't explain the grinning.  
  
Xavier then calmly asked the others to leave the room to talk with me privately. He offered me a seat and after I accepted he started giving me information that I probably would have rather not known.  
  
"Alan, first of all I don't want you to think of your powers as a 'curse'." He steered himself out from behind the desk to face me in a more relaxed role instead of the 'commanding principal' aura he seemed to radiate.   
  
"Well, it is...wait, why did you say curse?" He called it a curse... I hadn't told him about my views on my power yet.  
  
"I know I told you that I have a strict rule about not reading minds unless permission is given, but people have a tendency to project."  
  
"Project?"  
  
"Telepaths such as myself and Jean can pick up particularly strong thoughts. If someone is under stress or very afraid, for example. Specifically, if someone is thinking of a particular subject. If it is prominent in their mind it is almost like unintentionally listening in on a loud conversation."  
  
The blood drained out of my face as my mind raced to figure out what exactly he 'overheard' in my brain. I then realized a possible solution.  
  
Blank piece of paper, blank piece of paper, blank piece of paper.  
  
"Alan? I can teach you how to hold up mental blocks so you won't have to be worried about your privacy."  
  
I didn't exactly calm down at that, but at least it was a hope at some privacy. I nodded to the professor and accepted his offer of the 'mental blocks'. He named some of the other students that I had seen at the table that morning and told me the basic layout of the areas that weren't Staff Only. One area in particular surprised me...  
  
"Wait, you have a room where instruments of death come out of every nook and cranny, and you're telling me that you put schedules up for students to go in?" Hell, I'd take detention at my old school over that any day of the week and twice on Saturdays.  
  
"Yes, Logan is in charge of the Danger Room. After you finish healing from your wound you have the freedom to use it to test out your powers if you wish. The programs would be turned off, of course, and it would merely be an empty room."  
  
If Logan was in charge he would probably fire up a program called '9th Level of Hell' the minute I stepped in if I didn't start watching my mouth.  
  
"Actually, Alan. 'Logan's Run' is the hardest program we have."  
  
I just looked at Xavier with a raised eyebrow. I still hadn't gotten used to a telepath as a teacher yet.  
  
"Professor, not to sound rude, but could you knock first or tell me to keep it down when I start thinking loud again?"  
  
Xavier gave an amused smile at my response. I personally didn't find it funny that privacy was absolutely non-existant in this school. First I had students barging into my room and now I had faculty barging into my head. He politely agreed to my request.  
  
"I just wanted to tell you the importance of not thinking of your power as a curse. Everyone's unique talents can be useful in some way, it all depends on how it is applied."  
  
I reluctantly nodded. Sure that was right for some mutants, not me though. I didn't even know how to use mine, period.  
  
"Well, I do have a few other questions I'd like to ask if you don't mind. What was the deal with that big jet and the uniforms when Rogue, Scott, and Kurt picked me up?"  
  
Xavier gave a smile that resembled one a car-nut would reply with after you asked what kind of engine he had. "Those are my X-men, we use our powers for the benefit of the populace. We try to show people that not all mutants are destructive or terrorists," his smile quickly faded, "unfortunately, due to the actions of other mutants who believe we should be the superior race. Not many mutants are held in high regard or even treated as equals."  
  
"People just fear what they don't understand. I've seen the effects of that in my old town," Old town... It felt strange calling my home from 24 hours ago an 'old town' already, "We've got Friends of Humanity groups peppered around the area. I've heard horror stories of what they've done to mutants. I've lost some classmates to those guys."  
  
Xavier nodded grimly. He must have seen some of the FOH's 'work' on the news. Almost every day they did some atrocity against another human being merely because they could do something those rednecks couldn't.  
  
"Unfortunately, some of my students have been harassed by them. Not members of that organization you've spoken of, but simply scared people who have the same ideals. Fortunately, no one has been harmed."  
  
"I see that it hasn't made you bitter. You almost sound like you want to wait out this wave of prejudice and hope they come to their senses. You're talking about people who still have a hard time swallowing that not everyone believes in the same higher power. How do you expect them to handle something as major as the possibility that their next door neighbor might have the power to flip a car?"  
  
"True, but in case you haven't noticed. Those people who judge someone on their ideals or skin tone are looked down upon."  


I had to admit, that was the simplest yet best response anyone could give to that question and it was pretty damned convincing too.  
  
"You have a point, but you must admit as well that it took a very long time for people to come to their senses."  
  
"They did come to their senses eventually. That's the key point."  
  
I just nodded, he was right, they did come to their senses. He just seemed to ignore the fact that it took almost a lifetime to get those groups to agree to disagree. 

I thanked the professor for his concern of my well being and left his office. I headed toward my room to try and think things over when I overheard something that sounded like a television coming from one of the rooms and entered to see if my suspicions were correct.

  
"--and in other news, a strange military jet was seen flying very low to the Windy City last night--" A news broadcast seemed to be the only thing worth watching as I entered.  
  
"What was going through that guy's head?" Scott said in a humored tone. I assumed I missed one of those 'when animals attack' reports.  
  
"Ah know!" Rogue added, "The guy doesn't leave the murder weapon, he just drops his wallet!"  
  
"What did I miss? Some nut-job try to rob a 7-11?"  
  
"Nah, some guy killed a homeless man and left his wallet behind. They're not telling who it is because they don't want the guy to try to run south of the border," The goth responded while grinning at the television screen. "What an idiot... ya know? Ah mean, if he left the murder weapon they'd have to work to find him. Prints and stuff, but a wallet?"   
  
"Well, those New York criminals aren't exactly rocket scientists." I interjected, maybe if they watched more of those crime shows they'd know what not to do.  
  
"No," Kitty made herself known from an easy chair at the end of the couch. "Not New York, just more psychopaths giving my town a bad name."  
  
Scott gave a light chuckle, "Well after Michael Jordan left the Bulls, Chicago hasn't exactly been in the news spotlight that much."  
  
I swallowed my fear at the mention of that, "Half the time on those cop shows when a murder like that happens the killer, normally, isn't thinking straight to begin with. It may have been self defense."  
  
Scott shrugged at my quick defense of...myself, "I doubt it, they didn't mention any weapons being found at the scene, just the wallet. They might not be too far in the investigation though."  


"Anyway," time to change the subject, Alan. "They also talked about the jet being spotted. You guys ever have anyone track you down?"  
  
The three teens gave a grin that resembled Xavier's after I asked him about the X-men.

  
"Nope," said Scott, snatching the bragging rights, "The Blackbird, or X-jet, has the latest cloaking technology and best maneuverability for an aircraft that size. We're invisible to radar and uncatchable in the air."  
  
I had to chuckle at how enthusiastically he bragged. "Thanks for the commercial, Scott. How much is the first down payment?"  
  
Keep joking, maybe they won't catch on that I may the same idiot killer they're making fun of.   
  
"Oh, about a quarter of a million," Scott replied.

***************************************

A/Ns - What did you think? Remember to Review! Constructive criticizm is always appreciated. I probably won't be making Kitty's "vally girl" speak very prevelant as it sounds annoying even in writing.


	6. New Discoveries

Disclaimer: Yadda Yadda, Don't own Marvel, yadda yadda....  
  
Chapter 6  
  
New Discoveries  
  
****************  
  
I had to get outside to clear my head after finding out how quickly what I'd done to that homeless guy had been reported and making some small talk with the teens in the TV room. I made my way out the front double doors and to the front yard. I didn't notice how well maintained the front lawn was when I arrived due to the fact I wasn't even conscious but I noticed it now.  
  
After taking in the beautiful sight of the flower bed near the mansion's outside walls, I found a bench situated near a large fountain adorned with an angel statue. I just had to think about the Professor's "dream". He had high hopes for humanity, but he neglected to realize that what he was trying to achieve probably wouldn't happen in his lifetime. Especially when the only news they ever show about mutants was the bad. Major news networks never broadcast the stories about how a mutant saved a kid from imminent doom or how a public servant that's never done any wrong might be one. No, they all had the preconceived notion that if something differs from the norm that it has to be a risk.  
  
"Hi."  
  
I turned my head toward the new voice. She was a short Asian girl wearing comfortable clothing...except for a yellow raincoat on a perfectly dry day.  
  
"You're Alan. The new kid, right?"  
  
"Are you another psychic?"  
  
The girl giggled in response, "No, the professor told us all that there was a new student and that he was going to be on crutches for a bit," noting the crutches that I had rested on the ground next to the bench. I shook my head a bit as I grinned at my quick assumption.  
  
"Sorry about that," I explained, "it's just that I was just told by the professor about 'projecting' thoughts. Is there any way besides the mental blocks to get some privacy around here?"  
  
She let out a light laugh, "Nope, but from what the professor told me," she said through her grin, "telepathic mutants can't pinpoint what the thoughts say unless you're really close to them."  
  
"Guess I'll just have to keep my distance, huh?" I joked, "By the way...what can you do that got you the free ticket in here?"  
  
"Oh, I can make these sparkly firework things. Watch," the asian girl said as she rose a hand to the sky and fired off something that resembled thousands upon thousands of welding embers into the air in front of her.  
  
"You can shoot...fireworks?" Do these things breed on ethnic stereotypes?  
  
"Basically, yea. Oh, by the way, I'm Jubilation Lee. Everyone just calls me Jubes."  
  
"Well, Jubes, nice to meet you."  
  
"So, I showed you my power, what can you do?"  
  
Sure, the whole table of teenagers forgets to ask, but the curious kid with the fireworks decides to open the can of worms.  
  
"Well, I can make stuff out of my hands...I just don't know how to do it. The only time it happened was accidental." That's putting it lightly.  
  
"Well, when I do the firework thing I just... I mean you just have to..." she seemed to be struggling to end a sentence. "Sorry, I've just been doing it for so long that I don't even think about it anymore. Like it's second nature."  
  
"Don't think about it, just do it?" I assumed.  
  
She shrugged as if my answer was as good as any at that point.  
  
I stretched a hand out and relaxed. I just cleared my head and tried to think casually.  
  
Don't think about it, just do it.  
  
I closed my eyes and gave it a shot. I felt the weight on the bench shift as Jubes sat down on the opposite edge.  
  
"Hey, you did it!" I heard her shout.  
  
I opened my eyes and saw an old horror. My right arm had turned into a spike. It wasn't just any spike, it was the same one I killed that man with. I felt the blood drain from my face and my eyes widen as I realized that this curse wasn't just a one-time deal. I was a murder weapon.  
  
I shook my head a bit and closed my eyes again. I tried to focus my thoughts a bit, something blunt. Something that couldn't kill someone if struck by it immediately. I felt a slight tingle in my arm as I focused on what I wanted, a cylinder.  
  
I opened my eyes and let out a sigh of relief. In place of that deadly weapon was now a rounded cylinder. I had just successfully made something that resembled a Louisville Slugger on steroids. I could have some control over this power, I realized.  
  
"Cool," I said with a relaxed smile as I turned to Jubes, "multi function!"  
  
She was now staring at my face as if a dodo had just perched on my nose.  
  
My eyebrow raised. "What?"  
  
She raised a hand and pointed at my face. "Your eyes."  
  
"What about them?"  
  
"They're black."  
  
"No, they're brown, I get the joke telling me that I'm full of shit because my eyes are brown all the time."  
  
"Not 'you have black colored eyes'. Your eyes are black...ALL black," she said as she scrambled in the pockets of her raincoat and pulled out a compact mirror. "Here, see for yourself."  
  
I reformed my hand to normal and took the compact from her. I opened it up and saw my eyes...they were brown. "Are you pulling my chain? They're brown, like I said." I replied, rather annoyed.  
  
"No, I swear, your eyes were black. When you turned to me after...Wait, I've got an idea. Turn your hand into something again." she said quickly, I guess she was rushing to get her point across. I shrugged and turned my arm into a smaller version of the slugger and looked at the mirror again. My eyes were black, ALL black. The color had a shifting movement to it, almost like black paint, or oil.  
  
"Holy sh--"  
  
"I know!" She interrupted, "I guess it's a side effect or something." Her face contorted to a look of curiosity. "Why did you freak out when you made that ice pick thing?"  
  
"F-freak out?" I should have just said my half-truth into a mini tape recorder and play it back whenever someone started prying.  
  
"Yeah, you looked like you saw a ghost the first time."  
  
First time? They already knew?  
  
"Don't like the spike, do you?"  
  
Oh, she meant just now. Whew. Still, I was trapped in a corner and needed a new lie. Think, dammit, think! I let my hand revert to its normal state before throwing out the best thing I could manage to think of.  
  
"I saw the original Halloween when I was 3 and it scared the crap out of me. I've had this slight phobia of knives and such ever since."  
  
She nodded as I spoke. The biggest load of bull I had ever concocted on the fly and she bought it. I deserved a damn medal for that one.  
  
"Well, I saw the original Halloween about a month ago and I'm convinced you can take on a serial killer with nothing but an untangled wire hanger," She looked down at her watch and gritted her teeth. "Damn! I'm late for a Danger Room session. Logan is going to have my hide!" She gave a polite wave as she stood and headed toward the institute.  
  
Curiosity finally got the best of me concerning the Danger Room, there had to be a window or video monitor to watch over the training. Something for the staff to monitor in case of injuries and with what I've heard of that room, injuries were probably in abundance.  
  
I finally got down to the Danger Room and Ms Munroe showed me the way to the observation area. What I saw would make a social worker come down on this place like the hammer of God. Logan was sitting in front of a large computer panel giving orders and warnings to the students defending themselves against computerized death machines. I quickly moved myself to a better viewpoint of detention on steroids as quickly as a guy with crutches could maneuver himself.  
  
Rogue, Kitty, Scott, Kurt, Jubilee, and a girl I hadn't yet met who was on fire were all using their various abilities to dodge large paint ball pellets and various other objects posing an obvious threat to their safety. I pointed a shaky finger at the mixture of destruction and acrobatics that I was witnessing.  
  
"Anyone gonna put her out? I mean..." Then I thought about it and realized, "That fire girl...that's normal, right?"  
  
Logan simply nodded without breaking his focus on the students' actions. He pressed a few buttons on the control panel and two large cannons came out of the wall beneath the observation area. I felt a very slight rumbling underneath me and watched live ammunition fire from the newly revealed weapon.  
  
"Are you insane?!? That's live ammo! Anyone who walks in here would lock you up for that!"  
  
"Nah, most of them would be complainin' that the aim is off. We're mutants remember?" I heard over a speaker in the small computer room.  
  
"What the--," my eyes searched the room and finally landed on a small microphone positioned on a panel just behind me. "...That doesn't toggle on or off, does it?"  
  
"Vait!" The blue fuzzy German's voice now rang over the speaker, "Live ammo? You vere serious?! Logan, I didn't put on ze Kevlar!"  
  
"Elf, you should know by now that I'm always serious when it comes to training." Logan said with an angry tone, "When I tell you to put on Kevlar, you put it on! I don't want to have to drag your ass back to the mansion in a body bag!"  
  
"Jeeze, Logan! Lay off him!" Rogue chimed in. "It was just an honest mistake. Heck, we all thought you were gonna wait 'till tomorrow with the guns anyway."  
  
"In a real life situation, stripes, the enemy isn't going to give you a date when you're going to be shot at! A mistake like that could get you killed!"  
  
"The only thing that's going to get them killed is their drill sergeant teacher who thinks it's a good idea to fire live rounds at kids!" I needed to learn to keep my mouth shut.  
  
Logan fired a glare at me that could bore a hole through sheet metal.  
  
Er... I really needed to learn to keep my mouth shut.  
  
"Who the hell asked for your opinion, newbie? I'm trying to teach these kids how to survive in the worse case scenario."  
  
Logan looked down at my bandaged leg. "When did Hank say that you were gonna get that taken off?"  
  
"Um...four days, why?"  
  
Logan then looked at one of the monitors and started typing at the keyboard rapidly. "See you four days from now...Thursday. At six 'o clock."  
  
"What? I speak my mind and you throw me into that torture chamber while everyone's eating dinner?" I really needed to learn when to shut the hell up.  
  
"No...while they're still asleep. 6 AM"  
  
...Shit  
  
*************  
  
A/N: What did you think? Review please! Praise and Constructive Criticism is always appreciated! 


	7. The Inner Workings of a Confused Mind

Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men Evolution, Marvel, or even a car for that matter. I'm not making money off this, I'm simply getting some exercise in the world of creative writing.

Author's Notes: Sorry for how long this took, I just had a serious case of Writer's Block that needed a glob of C-4 to destroy.

Chapter 7

The Inner Workings of a Confused Mind

It just after lunch the following day when I met with the Professor and asked him to teach me how to create those "mental blocks". The clothes I had arrived in were starting to smell like sheer hell so they gave me some clothing that they had in-house. I dubbed it 'Xavier Wear' since every lick of it had an X on it somewhere. Shirt, pants, socks, and even the underwear. Frankly, I was disturbed by the fact that it looked like Xavier owned my ass in a literal sense now. I had to talk with someone about buying some clothes of my own.

When I entered the Professor's study, it seemed to have a much more serious mood than yesterday. The lights were on and the sun was shining in through the large window behind Xavier's desk, but the room seemed to have a much different aura than yesterday's introductions. There was no casual conversation being halted at the notice of me entering the room this time, because there was no casual conversation. It was just the Professor and I this time. He was seated behind his desk and there was another chair facing the front of the desk, obviously for me.

I sat down and rested my crutches against one of the arms of the chair.  
  
"Thank you for trusting me to help you develop mental blocks, Alan." The Professor was being even more formal than yesterday. This was either to calm me down or prepare me for bad news. "Before we actually build the blocks, I first need to see what your mental state is like. To do this I will have to enter your mind, with your consent of course."

He was prepping me for bad news.

"Uh, how do I know you're not going to snoop around? I do have some things I'd rather keep private for now."  
  
Like homicidal tendencies...  
  
"Actually, Alan, you'll be along for the ride. For me to do this I'll have to put you into a trance-like state. You will be able to see your unconscious representation of your mind."  
  
"...huh?"  
  
"You'll be there to make sure I'm not 'snooping around'."  
  
"Oh..."  
  
They were going to need to start handing out manuals to new students if they all were as confused as I was at that moment. 'Your Psychic Teacher and You' or something to that effect. After about 20 more minutes of explaining and repeating the explanation so I would understand, the Professor wheeled himself over so he was facing me and put a hand on each of my temples.

  
  
I opened my eyes and saw before me a completely white opening with a small home a little bit in front of me. As my vision focused I could see that the house I was looking at...was mine. I couldn't believe it, my house was intact, but here.  
  
"Xavier..what in the world is--HOLY HELL, YOU'RE WALKING!"

Xavier chuckled at that, "Not exactly, my physical body is still in my wheelchair in my office and yours is right in front of mine in the office chair. I assume you've noticed that you are no longer wounded?"  
  
I actually hadn't, I gazed down and found something unexpected. There was no evidence of me ever being shot; no scar, no stitches, no bandage, nada. "Well, that explains why I'm not screaming in pain... Where are we, exactly?"

"We are inside of your mind, like I explained before. I entered your mind and put you into a trance so you could observe my actions."

"Now, what is my home doing here?"  
  
"It's common for it to take a form that seems like a safe-haven to the person, such as a place they think of as 'home'."

I had a feeling that Xavier wanted to take a peek inside and to be honest, I wanted to see as well. I always thought my mind was just a scramble of memories that I could call to the forefront of my thought at any time. If how I saw my memories was anything near what my mind arranged them as then that place was going to look like a frat party just ended.  


"So I guess we should start...."  
  
Before my sentence ended, my mind did the work. Xavier and I were now standing outside of the door to my 'mental house'. Xavier gestured toward the doorknob as if what just happened was as casual as breathing. "It's your mind, I'll let you do the honors."  
  
I slowly nodded and watched as my hand opened the door. I looked inside...then quickly pulled my head back in to see why the hell was going on.   
  
Outside...siding, windows, porch, it's a house.  
  
Inside, it's a ballfield that I used to go to when I needed to get my mind off my worries. Barely anyone ever went there since there was a newer, better kept one up the street. It was identical down to the very last detail, the paint was chipping off the bleachers, there was a dent in the cage behind the catcher's mound, and even half of a broken bat stuffed into the trash can. One day a kid had gotten really pissed that he couldn't hit a pitch that his dad was throwing him, he took his frustrations out on the cage and caused that dent. Stuffed the broken bat in the trash can, I had never seen such a little guy get so angry over something so trivial.

I went inside and brushed my hand on the 4th bleacher seat from the bottom in the left field, my usual spot. I just had to smile, it was a perfect replica of a place where I would go to let my mind wander, even down to the relaxing smell of the freshly cut grass that was mowed every Tuesday. It would make me fall asleep some times. The back fence was about 5 feet tall, give or take a few inches. It was covered in various advertisements for car dealerships and local video stores. The paint from most of them were fading, mainly on the top from where some kids would stretch their arms over the wall to give catching that home-run one last try.

"Wow..."

I turned my head to see Xavier smiling and looking over the ball park. "I can see why your mind chose this place as a starting point. Very relaxing, nothing to worry about... Most people also have the same reaction that you just did."  
  
The scene before me then began to change, like a television losing it's signal. The background twitched and blinked out of existence, the bleachers dissolved, and the grass pulled itself back into the ground. The entire scene warped into what appeared to be a mail room. Envelopes on top of envelopes, packages stuffed under desks and on the floor, and what must have been a hundred faceless drones sorting it all at a lightning pace. One stood out though, he even made himself known.  
  
"Hey boss, whatcha need?"  
  
I looked from side to side, none of the other drones seemed to have stopped to react, and he wasn't looking at Xavier.  
  
"Me?"  
  
"Who the hell do you think I'm talking to? Baldy over there? I don't even know why he's here!"  
  
I just closed my eyes at that moment and hoped that the Professor didn't take offense. The last thing I need was to annoy the guy who could hop out of my head and proceed to brag the contents of my brain to the entire school.

After opening my eyes and looking back at what looked to be the 'head drone' I spoke up.

"So, where are we?"  
  
"This is your brain, 'course the fact that I had to tell you that makes me wonder why we're still working. Do you have ANY idea how much new shit we've had to sort and organize in the past 3 days? Hell, the section we have on daydreams has been going on overtime ever since you met that southern girl..."  


"Shut up, now."  
  
Normally I don't interrupt people, but normally people aren't going to be blabbering things I'd rather keep private either. I looked over the head guy's shoulder and noticed something very odd. A rather hyper individual was blindfolded and throwing small letters from a black garbage bag into an incinerator.  
  
"What the hell is that guy doing?"  
  
"Oh," the head honcho began, "that's why you forget memories, it's completely random what you forget and it's never about the same topic, we give him a new bag of random crap every hour and he starts tossing stuff. He's getting really good at tossing in where you last left your keys. He's not gonna need to worry about where you put your wallet till you get a new one."  
  
"Alan, we can get you some new supplies later today. I'll have a few of the students take you to the mall to replace your things after the session if you'd like," Xavier offered.

I nodded to Xavier and just kept looking around the mail room. For some reason, I had a hunch as to what each letter and box contained. What was stranger was that I was right every time. I looked up to talk to the head guy and the scene started to shift again. My vision was scrambled and everyone and everything besides the Professor and myself started to dissolve again. 

Over the static I heard the head guy say, "Seeya kid! Keep your head on straight!"

That phrase, something was very familiar about that phrase he said. To me it didn't sound like a pun, it sounded like a comforting gesture. I didn't have time to think it over till the scene shifted to something very odd...

I felt alone in this place. It was cold and dark, the floors felt like stone and the air that moved through the room howled like it couldn't find a way out. I looked in front of me and through the darkness I could see something glinting on the back wall. A metal ring, it was even with my shoulders in height. It resembled a door knocker but the positioning was wrong. It was a door handle. As I got closer I saw that it was sealed shut with chains and there were multiple locks, but nearby there were the remains of an identical door. It was heavily dented and there were claw marks from what appeared to be the inside. Irractic and frantic marks, like a trapped animal. I looked back and was relieved to see that Xavier was still with me.

"Where are we now, Professor?"  
  
"I don' t know, only you and your mind would, how do you feel here?"  
  
"Cold, alone, afraid...trapped."  
  
He nodded at my description of the room. "Afraid? This may be where you hold your fears, it does explain the door. It means that you've been confronted by them before."  
  
I slowly nodded as I looked down at the crumpled sheet of metal that Xavier was referring to.  


"Um, Professor...could we go somewhere else?"  
  
"This is your mind, Alan. I am merely a passenger along for the ride."

I realized he was right as he ended his sentence. I didn' t know how to move from area to area since I didn't even know how my brain was set up. I just waited for the scene to do it's normal automatic shift, when it did I let out a sigh of relief. I really didn't want to know what was behind that door. If just standing on the outside made me feel powerless then the inside was probably sheer hell.

After the static cleared a new section of my psyche came into view... 

****

Well, thanks for taking the time to read this. Please review. Flames aren't looked highly upon since I can't better myself from a simple "This is worse than the lies I've told teachers to get out of tests." Now constructive criticism is VERY welcome.

Thanks to those who beta read and helped me figure out story problems. The next chapter will be up shortly.


	8. Enemy Within

Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel, X-Men Evolution, or any decent snack foods at the moment.

Author's Notes: I told you I'd have this up quick.

Chapter 8

Enemy Within

The static cleared...but the veil of mystery as to what exactly my mind had presented me with hadn't been lifted yet.  The new area was entirely black and darkened until what looked to be a spotlight shone a light upon a plain office desk.

The desk appeared to be made out of real wood, and upon closer inspection it looked like one I had considered purchasing for my room at home when my freshman school year was approaching.  The price tag quickly turned my mother's opinion of, "Maybe we'll get it" to "For that much money, it better be able to do your homework for you."

The desk wasn't littered with simple assignments or textbooks. Instead it was nearly covered with pictures. Polaroids, postcards, and even what looked to be a picture cut from a magazine kept the top of the desk from even being viewed. I reached my hand down and picked up a picture at random and looked at the still image. I raised an eyebrow and was puzzled by the picture. It wasn't something I had ever done. Instead it was something I had thought about doing at a time. It was a picture of me standing in front of a vending machine that dispensed dollar scratch off lottery tickets with one of the cheaper selections in my hand.  I blinked in surprise as the Polaroid began to turn into a very thin and very small movie while it showed me scratching off the ticket and winning a one-thousand dollar jackpot.

I had always wondered 'What If' every time my dad used the extra singles from his grocery purchases to grab a couple of tickets. What if we won the big jackpot? What if I was the one who scratched off the winning ticket?

"Ahem"

I looked up to finally acknowledge Xavier was looking at another image in his hand. Without looking up he already guessed as to what this section was.  
  
"I assume this is your imagination. Daydreams in particular because these images mostly stay within the realm of rational thinking..."  
  
The Professor raised an eyebrow at the Polaroid he was looking at...I hoped he wasn't looking at an image of the one time I pictured him as 'Mr. Clean' in my head complete with the big gypsy earring.

"That's what I guessed, I've got a picture of me winning on a scratcher's ticket... Um, whatever you're looking at will be kept private, right?"

"Yes, Alan, it will... I would like to note one small bit of caution. Due to the nature of Rogue's powers, what I'm looking at now would be fatal if you tried to do it in reality."

The only way that picture could have been grabbed out of Xavier's hands any faster was if God himself tried to do it. I peered at it and noticed very quickly what he was talking about... 

I was just kissing her... 

Ok, maybe it wasn't just a casual kiss ...

Fine, it looked like the jaws of life would be required to pull us apart.  
  
"Uh..um...yeah..um..about this...well..." I then came to a realization. He's a telepath in charge of a school filled with teenage mutants. What was in this picture was probably pretty damn tame compared to what he may have picked up in the past from other students. I then glanced back down at the photo and looked closer...

One hand was running through her hair, the other was...going South, and I'm not talking about Mexico.

...Ok, maybe this wasn't exactly as tame as I thought before, but I was willing to bet it wasn't out of the ordinary.

I glanced over to Xavier and he just nodded.

"Don't worry, that's perfectly normal. Don't dwell on it either or it will just get worse. You'll consciously try not to think about it and only result in making the thought more intense. For example, if you tell someone to not think about a purple elephant they won't help but think about it."

"Oh, like when you think about trying to sleep but it only keeps you awake?"

"A very appropriate analogy."

I nodded as I threw the questionable picture under the desk and wondered where the hell that blindfolded guy with the furnace was.

I flipped through a few pictures and grinned at as they portrayed various scenes that helped me escape from reality. There must have been over a hundred instances of me flying around like a super hero, just as many of me saving the day with super strength, or some other ability that helped my mind wander from an algebra test or two. I then noticed that the guy in the memory section of my brain had a point. There were quite a few in here about Rogue..

Before thinking any further my mind shifted to another area, almost in a violent fashion this time. The static was louder and the shift was faster.

I soon found myself outside of the institute. It was a rainy, moon-less night and it felt like there was a vice tightening in my chest. My palms were sweating and my mouth dried up, I could barely talk. The beautiful greenery was replaced by the look of a war zone. Trees were replaced by scorched stumps and large gashes were dug into the dirt, the scene was eerily familiar. A weak moan coming from the ground at my feet interrupted my curiosity as to what happened and was replaced by horror as I looked down at the source.  
  
"Dear...God."

It was Kurt. Blood was pooling underneath him as his breathing became more and more shallow. He had multiple lacerations on his arms in a defensive manner and a very deep stab wound in the chest, near the heart.

"Kurt! Kurt, what the hell happened!?" I kneeled down so that he wouldn't have to speak loudly to answer. His response was a wide-eyed stare with fear in his eyes. He was staring directly at me. He didn't utter a word. He just looked at me as if I was his attacker. His breaths became more shallow and spaced apart.  
  
"Kurt! Kurt, come on man! Stay awake! You can't--"  
  
My words fell on deaf ears, or dead ears as the case was now. The man covered in blue fuzz suddenly stopped moving; the pool of blood stopped growing. Kurt was dead. 

I just stepped back in shock, trying to take in what I had just seen before a sickeningly familiar sound cut through the calm sound of the rain hitting the walkway. A very loud motorcycle engine revving up and speeding down the street.  It was him, that guy who was hunting me down the first night. The nut-job with the guns.

I knew that I wasn't safe outside and bolted into the mansion at top speed. I quickly shut the door behind me and looked around the main entrance.  The destruction outside paled in comparison to the war-zone that was before me.  Any furniture that hadn't been splintered was overturned. There were large cuts in the hardwood floor as if someone had drug a sword through it. There were wounded and fallen teenagers strewn about. They were either groaning in pain or silent due their life leaving them. My eyes immediately locked onto the faces I recognized: Scott, Jean, Jubilee...they looked like they had suffered the worst of it and fought the hardest. If this was just the entryway, I was afraid to see what awaited me in the other rooms.

Before I even got the chance to leave the living room, I heard a loud slam on the door followed by the noise of wood splintering. I turned just in time to watch the door collapse from the blow of a police battering ram. Three faceless policemen rushed in and tackled me to the ground. They were being lead by the biker.

"What the hell is going on?!?" I screamed when I could lift my face off the floor long enough to get the words out.

"You should know best, ya sick bastard," the biker spat.

I looked at him clearly as the policemen lifted me off the ground after shackling my wrists together with handcuffs. The leather coat and scruffy look was replaced by a very professional appearance, suit and all.

"You are being placed under arrest for the murders of..." He paused as he pulled out a printed document from an inside coat pocket. "Scott Summers, Jean Grey, Hank McCoy, Charles Xavier..." I didn't even listen as he rattled off many more names from the list that I didn't even recognize,  "...and finally, whatever the hell that blue thing is we stepped over on the front lawn."  
  
"But...what...how?" I couldn't even form a sentence, my mind was a mess.  
  
"We've got some eye witnesses who survived that slaughter-house you made."

I was lead out of the mansion in a very unforgiving manner by the policemen behind me. Whenever I slowed my pace they gave me a quick jab in the back with a nightstick. I was halfway down the walkway when I saw who the "eyewitnesses" were. Kitty and Rogue were sitting on the curb by an ambulance as a paramedic tended to a deep gash in Kitty's shoulder and another EMT tended to some cuts on Rogue's face.

The sound of the big guy opening the squad car door must have caught Rogue's attention because she glanced over at me. When her eyes recognized me she quickly jumped to her feet and tears flowed as she screamed at me.

"Fuck'n kill 'em! He'll just go crazy again 'til there's nobody left! Are you proud of yourself, ya sick bastard? You killed them! You killed them when they trusted ya!"

The EMT had to forcibly hold Rogue's arms behind her to keep her from bull-rushing me. He should have let her go. I deserved whatever beating she could dish out.

"Don't worry," the reformed biker called to her, "we've got enough evidence to give this freak the death sentence." At that he shoved me into the squad car. I lay where I landed as he closed the door and went around to the driver's side to take me to my judgment.  My world was crashing down around me and I didn't even know what happened. Why couldn't I remember? I kept asking myself this as I still lay on my side on the back seat.

The car passed through a tunnel. Darkness enveloped the vehicle as something caught me entirely off guard...the feeling of motion stopped entirely.

The emptiness cleared to reveal the disappearance of a few objects---the handcuffs that bound me, the car that carried me, the driver that was taking me to my judgment. It was all replaced by a cold, damp room. Found myself seated in a wooden chair with what appeared to be a spotlight or skylight shining down upon me, revealing my immediate area.

"Hello? Is anyone there? What happened? What did I do?" 

What else could I do but look for someone? I didn't know where I was or what brought me to this place.

"**_Hiya 'killer'. Like my humble abode? You built it, so it wouldn't necessarily make much sense to complain to me anyway._**"

"Oh God no...no...no, not you."  
  
"**_God can't hear you. He doesn't listen to murderers. You've got a special place in your own little corner of the damned._**"

"I didn't kill him! You did! You made that THING that stabbed him!"  
  
"**_News-flash pal!  I AM you! I'm in YOUR head! You honestly think they'll just lock up a chunk of your brain when you get found out? Fuck no, you worthless puppet!_**"  
  
"P-Puppet?" I didn't know why, but that word stood out.  
  
"**_Yeah, puppet. Who the HELL do you think was in control when you turned that parking lot into a third world country? The fucking TOOTH FAIRY? I was! I just turned on your powers, grabbed the strings, and made a masterpiece! It's just too damn bad my friendly disposition didn't rub off on you when you were experimenting yesterday._**"

"Experimenting?" Further confusion flooded my mind, what did he mean experiment? How I was trying to understand my powers the other day?

"**_Yes!_**" the darkness snapped, "**_When you wanted to see if you could 'walk without strings' the other day. Nice weapon by the way, a club. Can't kill the victim immediately so they have to suffer with internal wounds... Should have gave it a test run on that bitch in the raincoat._"**

A grim cackle echoed from wall to wall as the disembodied messenger seemed to partake _joy_ in the thought of killing someone. Why the hell did he keep referring to me as a puppet?

"What do you mean? It's my power, I can control--"  
  
"**_For chrissake, shut UP! You don't even believe yourself. You're still confused as to what happened when you blacked out in the parking lot. Want to know?_**"  
  
I stood up from my seat in the middle of the darkness. "What the hell are you? Show me what you look like! You talk like you're in charge but you're not even brave enough to show yourself!"

"**_Oh, it seems as if the puppet has grown a backbone...fine, it's only fair that you see who's in charge,_**" the voice said snidely.

Another pillar of light similar to mine appeared about 10 feet in front of me, a figure stepped into it...it looked like the black oil that covered my arm yesterday. Only this time it took the shape of an entire humanoid figure. It was my height and build...its similarity to myself was eerie.

"What happened in the parking lot before the X-Men picked me up?" I just wanted to get answers and get out of there.

"**_Ooh, ordering ME around? You can drop the front. I'm you so I know what you're thinking. I took control after you finished weeping like a damn infant at the body of that worthless schlub. I decided to see the sights of ol Chicago...and see what I could do on my 'birthday' as it seems to be. The power...oh the power was MAGNIFICENT! Since I didn't have a body to use, I just pushed yours as hard as it could go. Every sense to me was new, I could create hand-held destruction and destroy what was already made. I felt like a GOD. After finding out what I could do...it brought me to that parking lot. I ran along with my arms out in blades and just let them form gashes into the ground, reveling at the sound they made as rock was scraped from the earth. I found a car and decided to find out how much I could lift. Well, I can at least flip a car! It started to get a little fuzzy after I stabbed that screaming bitch. Called me a mutie freak...if you hadn't woken up when you did she wouldn't have had enough blood left to gurgle for help through!_**"

I couldn't believe it... It recalled the exact area in which I had no recollection of and it sounded happy as it relayed the carnage.

"W-Why? Why me? Why did you do this? Why me?  Why did YOU have to show up? Why couldn't I have just gotten the powers?" I slumped down on the ground at this point...just trying to form words.

"**_Well, give it a day or two and the bald cripple will probably tell you what some of the newspapers are printing about the facts of mutants. You won the genetic lottery! Fuck, if you actually LISTENED to what some of those impartial science teachers were telling you about mutants when they first showed up, maybe I wouldn't have to fucking tell you!_**"  
  
"What?" I couldn't remember any teacher even discussing the mutant issue in class except for one...

"**_Yeah, you heard it but you never bothered to remember it. I can dig into your memories even if you can't. You haven't been listening to anything I've said other than the parts that give you an excuse to weep like a damn baby. I am YOU. I'm part of your mind! I'm part of the whole 'New Mutant fruit basket'. Hell, I can see as far back as to when you watched your first smut film in the basement of a friend's house when you told your parents you were going over there to swap video games! Sorry pal, I've never seen a copy of Mario that involved a damn condom!_**"

"Stop that..."  
  
"**_What? Proving my point?_**"  
  
"Stay out of my head...stay out of my memories...stop it...." I wasn't even safe in my own mind...  
  
"**_Christ, fine. I'll stay out of your head. Besides, I'm already having fun even with your whining._**"  
  
"What? What do you mean?" This thing seemed to live off of carnage...how could it be having fun by simply tormenting me?

"**_Come ON! You're not that scared,_**" the figure barked. It then charged at me until it was now in my light, only a foot away from me.

"**_You haven't even wondered where baldy went? Or why he's not trying to find you? You never left your mind. You're still here. Your body is still in a trance._**"  
  
Fear crept up my spine as things started coming together. I don't remember waking up. I didn't even wonder where the Professor went when I seemed to appear in front of the mansion. I was still in my mind, but where was the person who said he'd tag along?  
  
"**_Your body is asleep...it doesn't mean it ain't movin' pal! While I've been keeping you a big 'ol bundle of nerves in here, I've also been playing puppet master! Anyone worth their salt can walk and think at the same time! Hell, I already got that nice hit on the Asian bitch that I wanted yesterday!_**"  
  
"Stop! Stop it! Don't hurt anyone else! Stop--" My panicked cries were cut short as a sudden feeling of drowsiness swept over me.

"**_The fuck was...was that? That big blue guy tackled us...had something in his...hand._**"  
  
It seemed as if I wasn't the only one getting weak. Big blue guy? Was he talking about Hank?

He called himself 'Us' just then. We felt that at the same time. He was telling the truth the whole time...we were one and the same. A being of carnage and a terrified teenager all rolled up into one.

Just like Jekyl and Hyde... 

----

I'm very proud of this chapter. It was very hard for me to write just due to how I wanted it to go exactly. If that sentence made any sense whatsoever...

As always, flames are disliked but constructive critcism is always appreciated.


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